


Rewritten

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan-Mills Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Regina finds out that Emma is actually pretty good at writing. By glsswrks via tumblr





	Rewritten

“Mom?” Henry’s voice broke slightly at the end, the pitch suddenly rising as he entered in the living room, paper and quill on hand. Both women inside shared a quick soft smile before turning back at the teen that was now blinking owlishly at his blonde mother, clearly not having expected to found her there.

In front of Regina, atop the low coffee table, several books and old-looking parchments were scattered alongside with two mugs. One already empty and the other filled with cooling black coffee.

“Hey kiddo.” Emma said while nodding to the teen, smiling when he returned the gesture before he looked back at Regina, the woman already standing from her spot at the couch, small frown on her face.

“Everything okay Henry?”

The teen shrugged and approached both of his mothers, noticing how quickly Emma closed several of the books that had been opened when he had entered. It was no mystery the woman had started again with her magic lessons shortly after her divorce but, other than not going to the vault anymore, the two women remained tightlipped about the classes to everyone, including him. Something that would have bothered him except it didn’t. Not after everything that had happened between all of them.

“Is the quill, it’s giving me problems again.” He started as she sat in front of both of his mothers while placing the paper -he had quickly understood that everything written on the book would be considered to be fixed instantly and so he always tinkered with the quill as carefully as possible on different surfaces in order to avoid the book- between them and him. “I just don’t… I need to keep narrating but there are times in where I just don’t know how to. Or how to start.”

He blinked before looking at Regina, his brunette mother already reaching for the paper in where several scribbled lines still glowed thanks to the quill’s power. Emma, however, was looking at him, fingers interlaced as she tilted her head to one side, lips pursed into a line.

It had been disconcerting to see his mother going back to the image of the woman he had still on his mind whenever he remembered the times when he had first met her. Some of the times in where he found himself looking at her the look on her eyes resembled to the times when she had just started to become accustomed to Storybrooke and, he discovered, that was one of those looks.

“You mean that the magic doesn’t work?” Regina was saying, picking the parchment and reading the lines with the half-smile she always had had whenever he had brought home his graded papers. He knew he was already too old to feel nothing but embarrassment but he found himself blushing ever so slightly before shaking his head, not really knowing how to explain what he felt.

“No, it’s…”

“You don’t know how to start writing.” Emma finished for him, smiling when he nodded back. He had never felt unsure of what to write but the work of slowly feeling the stories positioning themselves inside his mind, ready to be written, was quickly becoming something taxing and with it the fear of not doing his work properly, his duty, was slowly growing inside his chest whenever he added a new line to someone’s story.

“There are scenes that I don’t know where to start or how.” He admitted before ironing his jeans with his hands, his fingers feeling cold against the fabric. While he did that, Emma read the paper moving closer to Regina who had lowered it while listening to both of them, a soft look touching her pupils while doing so. It was a look Henry had been seeing on her more frequently these days but he merely stared at Emma as the woman read the lines, tongue peeking between her teeth as she did so.

“See, how about you start by the action itself? Think back on the book Snow gave you. You can change a few lines there, put a comma here… see?” As she talked she pointed at a few points of the paper, the magic within it glowing beneath her touch, as if sensing her own power. Regina had opened her mouth, seeming about to say something but, ultimately, didn’t talking at all and Henry found himself looking at the lines with new eyes, smiling as he saw what Emma had meant. Standing and giving Emma a quick nod before muttering a quick thank you he turned and went back to his room, the sound of his steps not really drowning the sound of his mother’s voices.

_“You… write?”_

_“I did, back when I was a teen, when I had already lost hope on finding my parents or a family again. I preferred to think on the adventures I would have and writing seemed as something I could do well. Did a few courses even after I started as a bail bondsperson but I eventually stopped. I mean, I wasn’t Shakespeare, I just enjoyed it.”_

_“You never cease to surprise me dear…”_

_“That’s the point, right?”_

Looking back at the book he had left opened back on his bed, Henry smiled as the beginning of a drawing he had left unfinished when he had left the room was starting to color itself showing both of his mothers looking at each other with a smile on their lips and one small line written behind it:

“And so it started.”


End file.
